"No. No." He shook his head and winced as the pain speared through his temple. "I would never hurt you. I love you." He glanced at Oscar again and away. "I wanted you to love me back. I saw you on the dust cover and fell in love with you. I wanted you to love me back." He repeated, his voice pitiful. "But you didn't."
"I couldn't. I didn't even knew you existed."
"I'm dying." His attempt at smiling failed as the pain ripped through his body, sending him into a spasm. Suddenly everything started happening at once. Medical personnel rushed in.
"You have to leave," the doctor told them.
They left the room and lingered in the corridor for a minute.
Kiara steadied herself against the wall, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. The echo of his words clung to her, unsettling and raw. She could still see the anguish in his eyes, that desperate grasp for forgiveness mingled with resignation. For a long moment, no one spoke; the corridor felt suspended, holding its breath just as she was.
"Let's go home," Oscar suggested gently.
With a nod, she allowed herself to be led from the corridor and down the length of the hallways with people milling around, waiting for answers of their loved ones' fate.
The sounds of muted conversations and distant footsteps echoed around them, underscoring the heaviness of the moment. Kiara glanced back once, her thoughts tangled in grief and uncertainty, before turning her gaze forward. The world outsidethe hospital felt impossibly far away, yet its pull was gentle, a promise of comfort and normalcy she wasn't sure she deserved.
"I often wondered why hospitals always smell like disinfectant and hopelessness." She murmured as they stepped outside in the balmy air.
"I had no idea that hopelessness had a scent." He knew what she was doing and was determined to humor her. Opening her door, he ensured she was buckled in before rounding the hood.
He wasn't in the car a minute when the phone rang.
"Margo?"
He listened for a second and then hung up.
"He's dead."
Kiara nodded in quiet acceptance.
He glanced over at her before backing out, thankful they did not have to deal with any pesky reporters. Margo told him she had managed to keep things under wraps for now. He knew it wasn'tgoing to be long before it was blown wide open. And then they were in for the publicity, the harassment by the press again.
He did not want her caught in the backlash and was going to do everything in his power to keep it from raining all over her.
Her quiet weeping reached his ears as soon as they hit the first light and had his stomach muscles clenching.
"I'm fine." She sniffed when he took her hand in his. "Really, I'm fine. It's just that it's so damn sad." She clutched his hand.
He held her hand until it was time to make the turn towards their home.
He was about to insist she go straight to bed, when she suggested they take a walk.
"I want to get the hospital scent out of my nostrils."
Willing to agree to anything, he came around and opened the door.
The air was a little bracing, the scent of the peonies by the base of the sculpture rising to meet them.
Taking her hand, he turned in the direction of the dense wooded area shrouded by trees with their leaves fluttering in the breeze.
"It's almost fall." She commented. "We could get married right here, in a few weeks."
He glanced at her, relieved to see that she was looking steadier.
"I could get mom and my sister on the phone to start making arrangements."
She smiled at that. Lifting her head, she inhaled deeply and felt a sort of cleansing taking place inside her. The sadness of a waste of life was still buried deep, but she was alive and taking a walk with the man she loved. "I have to tell my mother."
